Honeymoon With the Rancher

Sophia felt a curl of pleasure, bittersweet as it blended with the inevitable knowledge that this was their last night together. The trip to town seemed like ages ago, not two days. He had thought of her, even then? Before the kiss on the bridge? “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Please, just accept it as a token of your trip. A memento.”

He put the small box into her hand. “Open it,” he suggested.

Sophia took the simple white box and removed the cover. She gasped at the beautiful necklace inside. “Oh, Tomas.”

“It matches your earrings. The amethyst ones.”

She reached inside and carefully lifted the chain so that the pendant swung free. The silver pendant was in the shape of an ombu leaf, an echo of the ones that covered them like a veil. There was a marquise-cut amethyst in the middle. “It is stunning. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything. When you are back in Canada, you can wear it and remember your time here.”

Her smile trembled as she turned the pendant over in her fingers. And now she would have the necklace to remember. Remember learning to love herself again and remember the precious gift he’d given her, even more precious than Argentine silver. The gift of being herself and knowing it was enough.

The thought was beautiful and sad all at once, because it really was starting to feel like goodbye. She held out the chain. “Will you put it on for me please?”

“Of course.”

He put the box back in his pocket and took the fine silver chain from her fingers. She could feel his body close behind her and the coolness of the metal pendant against her collarbone. His hand swept her hair away from her collar and a shiver went through her body as she reveled in the simple touch. When the clasp was fastened, he kept his hand against the nape of her neck.

“Don’t go,” he murmured, touching his lips to the sensitive skin below her hairline. “Stay until the end of the week.”

That she wanted to say yes with every molecule in her body was enough warning. “I can’t, Tomas.” And she couldn’t tell him the reason. The last thing he wanted to hear from her was the L-word. He did not love her, and she would only be hurt in the end.

CHAPTER TEN

SOPHIA had her bags all packed when Tomas entered the kitchen the next morning. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, listening to her talk with Maria and Carlos. He’d meant to be up early, to talk to her about her plans, but instead he’d tossed and turned late into the night, replaying their conversation beneath the ombu and wondering if she was really right after all. Had he simply been hiding? Running? He thought of his family back in Buenos Aires, and of Motores Mendoza. He had closed the door to them and had been determined never to open it again. He’d flatly refused to talk to Sophia about it. And why?

Because it was easier to forget than to face the truth. He’d said goodbye to his old life and started over at Vista del Cielo.

And what had it fixed? Nothing. And then along had come Sophia.

Did she really have any idea of what she’d done?

She was folding something—was that her receipt?—and tucking it into her purse. She was really leaving, then. Sticking to her guns.

He admired her for it, but he couldn’t let her go. Not yet.

He pushed off the door frame and came into the kitchen. “Oh, Tomas,” Maria said, giving him a good-morning smile. “Sophia just told us of her plans. I’m sure she’ll have a wonderful time. Iguazú is so beautiful.”

“So you’ve straightened out the bill?”

Sophia looked up, met his gaze with her own. Firmly, no shyness or evasion. Dios, when had she become so strong? He swallowed as his throat felt dry. Today she was back in one of her tidy designer dresses, bronze shoes on her feet that seemed to be constructed of threads—how could something that flimsy hold someone’s weight? And yet he couldn’t deny how the criss-cross pattern drew his gaze to her ankles and the smooth calves leading to her hemline.

“I’ve paid Maria for my time here,” Sophia explained. “The mix-up is fixed. Thank you—especially you, Tomas, for a lovely stay.”

She was far too composed and Tomas felt annoyance build, tensing his shoulders. Lying awake meant he’d slept longer than he’d expected. He’d intended on speaking to her this morning. The idea of her paying for the week didn’t sit well with him. He had expected an argument, but he also wanted her to know that he would look after the costs of her stay.

This way made it seem like she was no more than a guest, and she was. Much more.

“So that’s it?”

She gave him a cool look. “What else is there?”

And yet she wore the necklace he’d given her around her throat, and the earrings, too. They’d shared things, personal things. It was wrong to have such a cold goodbye, as though none of it mattered.

“I told Miss Hollingsworth I would take her to the city,” Carlos said quietly, and Tomas shook his head.